


Thin Air

by FerretShark



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Airplanes, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF James "Rhodey" Rhodes, BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Tony Stark, Die Hard kind of Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flying, Gen, Problems with airplanes, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FerretShark/pseuds/FerretShark
Summary: When Peter and Tony have a serious disagreement, Peter withdraws. But when something unexpected happens to Tony's private jet Peter will stop at nothing to try to save him.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 25
Kudos: 117
Collections: Irondad and Spiderson Secret Santa 2020





	Thin Air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bean_reads_fanfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bean_reads_fanfic/gifts).



> This is for our Discord Secret Santa. This is a gift for Bean_reads_fanfic!  
> The prompts I used and tried to fulfill: hurt/comfort and tony and peter argument (followed by a bad thing happening). Things They’d Like To See: a subtle shout out to the discord  
> Happy Holidays everyone, please enjoy!

_Peter is livid. His anger roils up from his belly and constricts his chest. Fists clenched, he turns back toward the person he’s arguing with._

_He’s sure the eyes of his suit are narrowed in accusatory slits. Good. “You had him killed.”_

_“You’re right, I did.” The Ironman suit has the face plate flipped up. Tony’s face is exposed and gray in the fading light, his eyes sad but unapologetic._

_“Gargan was my problem! I was going to handle it.” Peter paces in agitation. “You handed him over to the Punisher!”_

_“I’m sorry Pete, but he’d made it clear that he was coming after you. He was out for revenge. Trust me, there’s no reasoning with someone like that. I’m sorry, kid. When it comes down to a choice between you and him, I’ll choose you. Everytime.”_

_A sound of frustration tears free from Peter’s throat. “You can’t just order hits like some kind of mafia don. It’s murder!”_

_“I was trying!,” Tony explodes and then gains control of himself again, finishing his words in a much more controlled tone. “I was trying to keep you SAFE! I know you probably think you’ve outgrown all that but...”_

_Peter slams down his foot, the concrete under his heel cracking in a web like pattern. “Stop! Just stop trying to justify it. It’s easy to kill people, but it’s harder to do the right thing, the difficult thing.”_

_“Ok look!, “ Tony cuts him off, his voice sharp, cutting. “I know you may not want to hear this but the world is not all black and white. And one day, when you get off your morally superior high horse, you’re going to find it’s actually just made up of shades of gray. That’s just the way it is!” They regard each other in the dying daylight. Tony holds out his armored hand.”Come on, Pete.”_

_Peter backs away, “No, you’re right. I don’t want to hear it.” He spins, throws a web and disappears into the night, leaving Tony behind._

One week turns into two and then three. Peter misses Tony acutely. He misses their phone calls, inside jokes and the impromptu lunches. But he still feels the sting from what happened and that Tony should really be the one to reach out. Everytime Peter has a moment of weakness, he reminds himself of that. So he ignores the email from Pepper and the texts from Happy. 

He doubles down on school work and focuses on what he can do as Spider-man. Mac Gargan’s death has left a power vacuum in a small sector of the city and he’s had his hands full with the small time crooks that thought they could step into the Scorpion's shoes. It’s almost a full time job, too bad he still has school.

The weekend finds him finally finishing an overdue English paper on ancient Sumarian writings. So the third time Ned calls, Peter considers answering before he sends it to voicemail, again. He’s currently ensconced at a table in the New York Public library, stacks of research piled up around him.

If he gets it in by midnight, he still has a shot at a solid B...maybe. He tucks his pencil behind his ear and types out a few new paragraphs.Then because he can’t help it, he checks his document stats again. Roughly 5,000 words, he sighs. He still has a ways to go before he’s done.

The persistent buzz of his phone starts up again and he reaches for it, fumbling for a second before he secures it. He clicks the answer button and presses it to his ear. 

“Ned!” He whispers irritably, “Why do you keep calling me?”

“Peter?” Ned’s voice is urgent and sounds off to Peter’s ear. ”Peter, where are you?”

“At the library, I have to finish this paper for Scholars English. I need the-”

Ned interrupts him, “You aren’t watching the news?”

“Um no.” Peter’s body is suddenly on high alert. “Why?”

“You need to turn it on, man.”

Peter’s fingers go cold. 

Ned’s voice echoes in his ear, “You need to turn it on right now.”

He closes out of the call. The cracked screen is covered in notifications. He's got several Google alerts, and his Discord notifications have blown up. A familiar, electric chill rolls up his spine.

Unsure where to start,Peter fumbles one hand into his pocket for his wireless headphone. He only has the right one, the left having been lost in a scuffle with a mugger a few weeks ago. He slips it into his ear and connects his phone to it. It takes him two clicks to see what Ned was talking about. 

He surges to his feet, hitting the live streaming button.  
“-currently tracking this situation. Tony Stark’s private jet took off from the Greater Rochester International airport this morning. About 30 minutes after take off the plane stopped responding to air traffic control..”

He draws in a shaky breath. Leaving the table, he abandons his things, only to loop back and throw his laptop into his bag. He rushes through the library at what could be generously called a power walk. He wants to sprint, to run, but he holds it together until he makes his way outside. As soon as he hits pavement, he’s off.

Part of him is still listening to the news. They’re speculating about who all is on board: Tony, Pepper, Colonel Rhodes. They were heading for a west coast Stark Industries conference. 

He tries to call and text Happy, but there’s no answer. He flips back to the news and suffers through several commercials before the coverage starts up again. 

“If you’re just tuning in we have a breaking story about the mysterious loss of contact with Tony Stark’s private jet. I have an expert joining me that believes explosive decompression might be to blame.”

Peter finds an alley and rips his street clothes off, shimming into his Spiderman suit. All the while, he listens to the news and the experts. Explosive decompression or gradual decompression causing loss of oxygen for all of the plane occupants. No way to get to the jet before it runs out of fuel. 

There’s speculation among the television hosts about a possible rescue operation but nothing seems promising. 

Peter pulls his mask on and pauses for a breath. He doesn’t like the way they're talking about Tony. They’re talking about him like he’s already dead. Peter pushes away the thought.

He’s frustrated. There’s only so much he can do on the ground. To do any good, he needs to be up there. He needs a suit that could fly. _He needs a suit that can fly._

He reboots Karen. He’s turned her off weeks ago in a fit of pettiness that he prays Tony won’t hold against him. If he ever sees him again. 

“Hello, Peter.” Her voice is warm and without a bit of reproach for his absence.

“Karen! Good. Karen, can you connect me to Friday?” He pauses, then adds, “It’s an emergency.” 

“I can try.” The familiarity of her voice calms him some.

It seems like forever before he hears Friday’s voice come online. Where Karen projects warmth and encouragement, Friday is all cool competence.

“Good afternoon, Peter.”

“Friday. Mr Stark is in trouble. I need to get to his jet. Can I have a suit?” He’s pretty sure she can infer which kind of suit he’s asking for. 

“I’m sorry, Peter. All suits are coded to Tony and Colonel Rhodes’ biometrics. I can not authorize those for your use.”

Peter huffs in frustration, his mind racing for loopholes. 

“C’mon,Friday? There’s got to be something? Can we activate one of the museum suits?”

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

“Please, Friday? Please. Anything, he’s in trouble. They all are, I gotta…just please.” His voice breaks a bit on the last one. 

“‘Would you like some cheese with that whine’ protocol activated. Please verify.”

“What?” He blinks.

“You have activated the Whine protocol, voice activation required.”

“Really? Oh. Um Peter? Peter Parker.”

“ Access denied.”

“Spider-Man?”

“Access Denied.” Peter freezes, considering. “Oh, um ‘Underoos?”

“Accepted, a suit has been dispatched to your location. Incoming in approximately three minutes.”

“Oh good, that’s awesome.” He lets out a shaky sigh of relief.

“I have uploaded your preferences and when you are safely inside I will transfer control to Ka-”

“No!”

“I do not understand” Friday’s voice takes on a note of confusion.

“I’d rather have you in the suit. If that’s all right?” Having Friday would be like having a little bit of Tony with him, not that Peter was ready to put that feeling into words. 

“Of course. Brace for incoming.”

“What?” Something hits Peter hard in the back and knocks him forward. But before he can fall, he’s swallowed up into the gold titanium alloy of the Mark 53 suit. The HUD comes up instantly and projects through his mask. 

It takes him a second to get his bearings. He’s played with the helmet and repulsors before, of course, but being inside a fully functional Iron suit is a little different. The Iron Spider is the closest he’s come, but that had been tailored to Peter’s skill set and not really meant to take to the skies. 

“Friday, does this thing come with an autopilot?” He can figure out how to do this himself, but he doesn’t have the time. “Can you put me on an intercept course with Mr. Stark’s jet?”

“Of course, Peter. Intercept course plotted at maximum recommended speeds.”

“That sounds perfect, thanks.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s rocketing through the sky. The sudden acceleration makes his stomach swoop and he lets out an elated shout. This is awesome. 

Peter? I’m connecting you to air traffic control.” That’s all the warning Friday gives him before there’s a ringing over the com. 

“JFK tower, please identify.”

Peter takes a deep breath and goes for his best,no nonsense, May Parker impression. “ Yes, this is Spider-man. I am currently entering into New York airspace. I need clearance. My AI is currently filing a flight path with your office.” 

He can see Friday doing just that over the Display.

“I’m sorry, did you say this is Spider-man?” The man sounds uncertain. “Just one moment please.”

When the line reconnects it’s a different person. The lady sounds calm and professional.”

“This is JFK tower, you are cleared to 35000 feet. We’ll try to keep other traffic out of your way.”

“That sounds awesome.” Peter feels FRIDAY turn the suit, adjusting the course.

“Good Luck, Spiderman.”

Something in her tone, makes Peter’s throat feel tight. 

“Thank you.” He rasps and he means it. He ends that call and immediately asks FRIDAY to connect another. He could use all the help he can get up here and there's only one place he can think of that might have those resources available. 

“Friday, call SHIELD.”

“Connecting you to SHIELD”

“Big City Floral. How can I help you?”

“This is Spiderman and I need to speak to Director Fury.”

“There’s no one here by that name but if you-”

He cuts her off, “Listen, I know this is a SHIELD front. I really need to speak to Director Fury, it’s about Tony Stark.” 

“There’s no one here by that name.” She repeats. “Do you have an order?”

“No, I just need-”

There’s a click and a new but very familiar voice comes on the line. “Parker?”

Peter’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. Somewhere deep down he hadn't really expected to get this far, He hasn’t spoken to Nick Fury since Happy had stepped in and shut the man down after the whole Europe debacle. Happy and Tony have been running interference ever since.

“Yeah it’s Parker. Uh Peter Parker. You know about Mr. Stark's Plane right? He’s um, he’s in trouble.”

“We have a Quin jet in route, but the timing is not great.” Fury’s tone is rueful. 

“You have a jet? Ok. Ok. That’s great...I’m about fifteen minutes out.” 

“From?”

“The jet. Mr. Stark’s plane, I’m-”

There’s a muffled conversation from the other side of the line, but Peter can’t make out the specifics. 

“I have you on radar.” Fury laughs, he sounds pleased. “What kind of craft are you flying there Parker.”

“It’s not a pla- a craft. It’s a suit.” He corrects. 

“Stark’s suit?” Fury's tone makes his surprise evident. 

“It was an emergency.” Peter can feel a little defensiveness creeping into his tone. 

“Hm.” Is all the Director says for a moment, then his voice goes to something more gentle. “Listen,” He draws the word out. “I need you to be prepared for what you may find when you get up there.”

Peter feels his jaw clench. The thought had been percolating in the back of his mind. There’s only so much emergency oxygen a plane would have on board, even a Stark jet. The jet had been decompressed for who knows how long. The margins here were razor thin. Peter had been planning a rescue mission, but it could very well turn in to something else. 

Fury doesn't press the point. “Call back if you need us. The code word is ‘Chrysanthemum.’”

Peter clears his throat of the sudden thickness he feels. “Friday, end call.”

He almost immediately regrets hanging up because the sudden silence leaves him alone with his own thoughts. He’s in a suit and on an intercept course, but then what? The implication in Fury’s words have left him cold. 

He takes the moment to reflect on his relationship with Tony. They hadn’t spoken since the incident a few weeks ago. Peter should never have let it get this far. Regret leaves a bitter tang in the back of his throat. 

He would never condone murder but he knew how protective Tony was of him. They would always be at odds over the subject of Peter’s safety. It was easy to hold the moral high ground when Tony was involved, but at what cost?

Firmly setting that aside, he starts to make tentative plans for when he reaches the crippled jet. If he found anyone- when, he corrects himself firmly, when he finds them, the most pressing concern will be air. 

He was turning over potential plans and discarding those that seemed unlikely to work, when there was a soft beep.

“Peter, we are approaching Mr. Stark’s jet.”

The breath catches in his throat. The time for planning was over, it was go time. A fresh wave of determination rolls though him. ‘Come on, Spider-Man.’

With his enhanced vision, he can make out the shape of the jet flying up ahead. Still stable in flight, appearing ghostly through the mist of the cloud bank it was emerging from. 

“Friday, give me a boost and close the gap.”

“Done.” 

Peter is propelled forward as the rocket thrusters kick in.

“Mr. Stark would want me to remind you that holding your breath over 8 minutes could be detrimental to your health.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, Peter. Be careful.”

The suit fires straight up, coming up even beside the plane. The chest plate opens and Peter is flung out onto the surface of the jet. He lands, sticking himself to the airframe. Now he needs to find a way to get himself inside that didn’t suck everyone else out. 

“It’s ok, Peter, you’ve done this before. No one trying to throw you off this time, so that’s different. Kind of nice. Maybe I should stop talking.” He scuttles along the side of the aircraft until he gets to the windows. Inside are bodies slumped over in the seats. With his enhanced vision he can clearly make out Happy and Ms. Potts. He doesn’t linger though, climbing along the belly of the craft until he gets to the back.

He can just barely find the seam in the underside. It’s not the baggage compartment, but rather a holdover from tenser times. There was a hatch where Tony used to store his suit so he could leave for a mission at any time. Now it usually stays empty. Peter digs in his fingertips and begins to pry it open. There's a deep metal groan and it pops free, falling down and he nearly loses his grip. 

“Oh shi-” He quickly catches himself, sticking tightly to the underside of the ramp door. The wind has been fighting against him this whole time but the end is in sight. He climbs carefully into the plane. Once he’s in he uses a couple of well placed pieces of webbing to pull and anchor it closed. He pulls open the hatch that let’s him into the passenger cabin.

Without the sound of the wind in his ears, the blood rushes in his ears. It’s all he can hear and an icey thread of panic curls around his spine. He swallows and cocks his head, listening.

When he finally calms down enough to isolate the distinct sounds of four heartbeats, he exhales shakily. Not out of the woods yet though. 

He advances into the cabin, eyes searching. He finds Tony and Colonel Rhodes slumped over a bundle of wires and open paneling. Slow decompression then. They’d known they were losing oxygen and had a window of time to try to do something about it. 

He wonders when they’d noticed. They would have known, Peter thinks. Tony had probably done the math and set the oxygen system to the lowest setting to buy themselves the most time for an unlikely rescue. They wouldn’t have had the time to do much else. 

“Friday?” He whispers. Somehow it seems appropriate to keep his voice low. “A little help here.”

“Yes, Peter. There are supplemental oxygen tanks in the panels behind the cockpit.” 

He finds it quickly. Running out of patience, he sticks to and rips away the panel. Two small cylinders of oxygen rest there complete with masks. He takes them both and goes back down the aisle. 

Peter knew how to do a lot of things, but he couldn’t fly a plane, fortunately there was someone here that could.

He clips the mask over Colonel Rhodes' face. A few breaths was all it took before the man stirred, his eyes slowly opening and locking onto Peter’s Spider-man mask. 

“Pete?” Colonel Rhodes' voice was strained. His eyes slide shut as he takes in a few more deep breaths ok oxygen. “How?” he sighs, but it sounds more rhetorical than like he expects an answer.

“Sir.” Peter greets him, waiting. He watches the awareness come back into the Colonel’s body and the exact moment that the military pilot training took over. He decided now wasn’t the time to waste on small talk. “Can you fly it?”

“Yeah.” Rhodey unclips his seat belt and pulls himself to his feet, slightly shaky. Peter mirrors him, ready to steady the Colonel if he needed the help. But unsurprisingly, Rhodey waves him off, gripping the seat backs as he makes his way toward the cockpit. 

Peter turns his attention back to Tony, keeping one ear on the engines and the heartbeats across the aisle. It was a lot of input and he needed to focus. Peter lets out a shaky breath as concentrates on easing the mask onto Tony’s face. 

At first there’s no response, so he taps gently at the bearded cheek. “Hey. Mr. Stark?”

Watching Colonel Rhodes wake up had been like watching a laser slowly focus, but with Tony it was watching hundreds of live wires burst to life at the same time. 

Peter knew him well enough to follow several of those trains of thought. 

_“You.”_ Tony breathes out, grabbing Peter’s shoulder and squeezing. “You’re here.”

“Yeah. How are you-””

Before Peter can get the words out,Tony suddenly lurches forward twisting in his seat, seeming to forget that he’s strapped to it.

“Pep.” He gasps, eyes searching while he fumbles with the belt.

“She’s fine, Mr. Stark.” Peter assures him, he can hear her heartbeat and the soft sounds of maybe too shallow respiration. He helps Tony stand, there’s a soft buzzing at the corners of his awareness. He blinks it away.

Almost immediately,Tony vaults across the aisle, the silver oxygen canister in tow. He checks over Happy and Pepper, shaking fingers skimming over the oxygen canisters in the ceiling as he contemplates his options. Then he gets to work, adjusting the airflow.

Tony pauses and Peter can tell he’s doing some complex mental math. “There’s not enough.” he mutters to himself, before looking up at Peter. “There’s not enough time. Do we have a plan here, kid?” He’s back to fussing over Ms. Potts oxygen line. 

“SHIELD has a Quinjet on the way. I’m not sure when they- there’s no...” Peter turns, but forgets where he was planning to go. He turns back.

Tony’s frantic movements slow and then he blinks. “Where’s Rhodey?”

Peter answers, but whatever he says causes Tony’s face under the oxygen mask to darken. So Peter tries again. 

Tony swears and rounds on him. 

“Mask up.” Tony’s voice is an order but Peter can't process what he’s saying enough to comply.

Fingers dig at the seam of his mask and push it up above his nose. 

Tony pulls the oxygen mask back over his head and holds over Peter’s face. 

“Breathe, Pete.” Tony’s tone is firm but his eyes shine with concern, Peter can see he’s holding his breath. 

The first hit of oxygen is sweet and with it comes a degree of clarity. He’d completely forgotten that he would eventually need air too.Stupid. He’s superhuman but he can’t go without air indefinitely. 

“I’m ok, I’m ok.” Peter gasps out, when clearly this is not the case. “You need.” He tries again, still greedily sucking in deep breaths. 

“Just breathe, Buddy.” 

“Ok, yeah. I’m ok. Thanks.” He pushes the mask back at Tony. He puts a little more force into and this time Tony takes it, holding it to his own face and breathing in. 

“Seriously though, you good? And none of that self sacrificing bullshit.”

Peter can’t help the smile as he re-settles his Spidey mask. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

Tony swallows hard, “Is Rho-” 

With no warning, the entire plane pitches forward, nose down. Peter sticks but Tony is tossed forward and off his feet. 

Alarmed, Peter grabs for him and catches Tony’s arm. There’s a grunt as Tony hits and bounces off the seat row beside him and catches himself. Together, they make their way to the cockpit. 

“Oh there you are.” Colonel Rhodes comments to Tony, “Have a nice nap?”

“I was fine until you tried to break my neck back there.” Tony snarks. He tosses himself in the co-pilot seat and straps in.

“You got any idea what happened?” The colonel wants to know. 

“Yeah, someone fucking hacked my tech.” Tony all but snarls. 

“Yeah.” Rhodes grunts and pushes against the throttle. “This bird really doesn’t want to cooperate. The controls are, damn.” They start to roll but Colonel Rhodes forces the plane back to level flight. “I’m getting us down where we can breathe, but it’s a fight.”

Tony is already pushing buttons, his eyes flicking over panels. He starts pulling things apart, if it were anyone else, that would be alarming but Peter trusts Tony’s instincts. 

Colonel Rhodes casts a sidelong glance.

““If you can get me radio control that would be great. We’re falling through the sky without clearance, hoping we don’t hit something.” 

Tony doesn’t answer because he’s tinkering with a ball of wire and there’s a spark. The whole cockpit goes dark as they continue to plummet at a steep rate. Peter breathes, a cold sweat breaks over him making the suit uncomfortable. He closes his eyes.

Outside of the creaking airframe the wind roars, the engine sounds cut out, but Colonel Rhodes’ heart rate never changes. Peter opens his eyes and as suddenly as it had gone down, the computer system reboots and the lights burst back on. 

The engines roar as they catch the plane, but everything feels different. Less like they’re fighting and more like flying. He listens as the Colonel makes contact with air traffic control and relays their location and altitude. 

“Twelve hundred feet. That’s it, Tony” Rhodey says suddenly and Tony yanks off the mask and takes a deep breath without it. Peter finds himself mirroring the action. 

There’s a flurry of activity at the co pilot chair and Tony stands, nudging him, “There’s your Quinjet, kid.”

Peter can see it off to their left.

It takes a little back and forth with the Shield personnel but they make a plan. The Quinjet falls in behind and below them and Peter carries Happy out to the back of the plane, the same way he’d come in. The man is snoring softly and Peter’s glad he’s not awake for this. Happy likes the idea of swinging about as much as MJ does. 

“Ok.” Peter breaths, psyching himself up for this. There’s little room for error. He sticks a length of webbing to the jet and then jumps. It’s free fall for a moment until he orients his feet, aiming for the open bay door on the other plane. 

He sees the surprised faces on the Shield med team as he sticks the landing, dropping into a crouch, trying to absorb most of the shock. He leaves Happy behind and swings back up to find Tony and Pepper waiting.

Ms. Potts is awake and speaking softly to Mr. Stark but she smiles when she sees him, “Hi Peter.”

“Hey, Ms. Potts. Are you ready to go?”

Pepper laughs, “

Tony seems to fret a bit as Peter gathers her close. Tony reaches out and strokes her cheek. 

“Tony.” She sighs, not really having the energy left to reassure him any further. 

“She’s going to be ok, sir.” Peter says earnestly, he would never let anything happen to Ms Potts on his watch, 

Tony smiles, it’s a soft thing, full of unspoken emotion. “I know. I trust you.”

They lock eyes for a moment, Peter can see that he means every word. “Be right back, sir.”

It takes him less than ten minutes to get Pepper safely about the other jet and himself back onto Tony’s. When he steps back inside he finds Colonel Rhodes waiting for him instead. 

“We have FRIDAY taking over for the autopilot. So any chance you can get into the cargo hold?” Rhodes wants to know.

Peter tugs off his mask, no need for secrecy now. “Probably. What do you need?” 

“My suit’s down there.”

Peter blinks. The War Machine was heavy and built like a tank, it made sense to store it below decks. 

“Ok, one sec.” He calls over his shoulder, running to the cockpit where he finds Tony, on the floor with panels all around him. A quick glance tells him that Tony is busy erasing data. Lines of code wink out of existence as Peter watches. 

“So um Mr. Stark? I just need to know. How much do you like this plane?”

“It’s scrap, Kid, I’m putting her down in the Pacific. Nobody gets to play with my toys without permission.” 

“Well, Colonel Rhodes and I are going to go back here and wreck stuff. I just thought you should know.” 

Tony’s response is a wry laugh. “Go ahead, go nuts.” 

Peter finds Colonel Rhodes in the center of the jet contemplating the airframe. He looks over at Peter. “So you want to try to climb around outside?

“What about we just go straight down to the cargo hold?”

“Through the floor?” Rhodey folds his arms, looking speculative.

Peter squats down and runs his hand over the jet floor, looking for a good place to open it.“Is there anything below this, that could make things worse, if I hit it?”

Colonel Rhodes considers for a moment before answering dryly, “Just the center fuel tank.”

“Gah!” Peter recoils. Great, save everyone from a decompression event only to kill them all in a fiery explosion. 

Rhodey walks slowly over the floor. Peter can tell he’s calculating a safer spot. 

“Over here Pete, nothing down there but the A/C packs.”

Peter punches straight down with measured force. He pries up the flooring and lowers himself into the hole. 

He crawls along the underside of the floor, searching for the best spot. When he finds a panel with fewer wires attached, he launches himself at it punching through. 

“Whoa!” He overestimates the force and flies straight down, landing on the cargo bay floor. 

There’s a soft mechanical whirring and feet appear overhead. Colonel Rhodes drops into the cargo hold, having followed Peter’s path down.

The suit stands at attention, strapped to the wall of the plane. Peter tears the restraints apart like wet tissue paper and within seconds Rhodes is swallowed up by his suit as it comes online. 

War Machine’s eyes glow bright in the dim light. 

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Tony he has 5 minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” Peter scampers back up through the wrecked decking. He finds his mask discarded on a seat and pulls it back on. 

Tony sweeps out of the cockpit, taking a last look at the ruined jet, “Ready to go? This baby’s about to get up close and personal with Newton’s law of gravitation and it would be better if we were somewhere - anywhere else really, when it happens.”

“Yeah.” Peter agrees. “We got the suit. Colonel Rhodes says you have five minutes - that was probably about five minutes ago.”

Tony holds up his smart watch, “He texted.”

There’s a concussive blast that Peter interprets as the War Machine suit puncturing the outer hull or the fuselage. The plane shakes violently before righting itself. Peter hangs on to Tony’s arm, holding him upright. 

“Ok, let’s go.”

“Do we need the parachute?” Peter asks, because after all his Spider suit does have one. 

“Nah, Friday’s got my suit ready for me. Mind getting the door?” Tony motions to it with a tilt of his head.

Peter kicks the passenger door outward. It explodes from its hinges and swirls away on the currents of wind, the roar is almost deafening. 

He helps Tony make it to the open doorway. 

The man gives one last look at the cockpit and jumps from the plane. Peter counts to ten and follows him out.

He’s plunging through the icy air in free fall before the Ironman suit rises beneath him. He latches one hand, using the leverage to connect his feet. He whoops as the gauntlets fire and they careen through a low dusting of cloud.

Peter’s lost all sense of direction by this point, he’s just along for the ride. The full flight takes half an hour as War Machine and Ironman escort the SHIELD jet to the Los Angeles Airport.

He can feel the change as Tony comes in for landing on an empty runway full of emergency vehicles. As soon as they’re close he launches himself up and somersaults off Ironman’s back. He allows himself three flips before diving into a roll before he skids to a stop in a crouch, Ironman slamming to a landing just behind him.

War Machine crashes to the ground to his left and there’s a roar or cheers and flashing from the direction of the airport.

He blinks.

“That’ll be the press.” Tony’s face plate flips up and he squints toward the building.

“Oh goody.” Rhodey also flips up his helmet front, a frown creasing his face.

Peter falters a bit. “Oh um. Should I? What do I d-?”

“I’ll talk to them. You guys head inside, ask for my lounge.” Tony takes off toward the assembled crowd.

“You have a lounge?” Peter asked but he’s too late for an answer, sometimes he forgot just how big Tony’s world was. 

“Come on.” War Machine tosses a friendly hand on his shoulder.

Rhodey leaves the suit outside on sentry mode. They are directed to the lounge which is promptly swept for bugs. At the all clear, Peter pulls his mask off and gets a glass of water. 

“I’m going to go smooth things with airport security. If you need anything, call Tony.” Colonel Rhodes excuses himself.

Peter takes the time to call May and MJ. Now that he’s on the ground, their worry rocks him a bit. It definitely could have gone very wrong. He takes a moment to appreciate how well the afternoon had gone. After that, he makes it 15 minutes, a personal best before he starts feeling antsy. 

He’s about to start climbing the walls, literally, when he hears a soft clearing of a throat. He spins to find Ton watching him. 

The silence hangs heavy between them. With their feet back on the ground, all the frustrations and fighting between them, rest unresolved.

Tony’s staring at him, eyes dark. Peter fumbles to fill the silence between them with noise.  
“Tony I’m so sorry. I mean if anyone knows how fast things can happen it should be me. I shouldn't have said what -”

“Wai-” Tony tries to interrupt but Peter charges ahead, closing the distance between them. 

“This morning they all kept talking like you were dead, like you were already gone and I realized that I didn’t want what I said to be the last thing I- I just- I’m sorry, Tony.”

“Pete. Stop apologizing.” Tony;s stepped into his space, grabs his head between his hands and plants a brusque, bristly kiss on his forehead. 

“You saved my life kid, again.” Tony’s voice wavers, his hands dropping to Peter’s shoulders. “and Pep’s and Rhodey and goddamn everybody.”

“I was just...”

“And if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.” Tony cuts him off “I know Gargan was your territory and you had a way you wanted him handled. I should have respected that. I just didn’t want to see you get hurt. I can’t-” Tony trails off sounding a bit lost.

Peter grabs him then and squeezes. Tony’s voice cuts off in a squeak from the force of it. Peter lets him go and steps back, grinning. Tony’s smiling too. 

They look at each other again, communicating without words.

The edge of Tony’s mouth quirks up. _I’m sorry I was such a stubborn asshole._

_I was too. I’m sorry._ Peter sighs and shakes his head. 

_Let’s never do this again._ One of Tony’s genuine smiles starts to creep over his face and Peter finds himself answering it in kind. 

_Agreed._

They continue to grin stupidly at each other until Peter clears his throat. 

“So do you know who messed with the plane?” He hates to bring it up but the question has been eating at the back of his mind.

Tony’s eyes darken. “Not yet, but I have a few ideas. So it might be a working weekend, but do you want to stay here in California?”

Peter sighs and mumbles out a response, “I still have to write my paper.”

“The paper you were supposed to turn in last week?” Tony smirks at Peter’s surprised look.

“You knew about that-?” 

“Heard it through the grapevine.” Tony’s smile is wry. “At least May and I are still on speaking terms.” 

A flood of warmth fills Peter’s chest. Tony’s been there the whole time, orbiting just outside his space. Waiting for Peter to forgive him. It had almost been too late though. Peter swallows hard, fighting the lump in his throat.

“I-” His voice is thick with all the emotion that he can’t quite find a way to put into words. He takes a deep breath and tries again. “You-”

Tony saves him, “I know, Pete. It’s ok.”

The hug that follows is welcome and if Tony’s eyes are a little misty when he steps back Peter doesn’t mention it because he’s in the same state.

Tony claps him on the shoulder. “Let’s grab lunch and figure out a way to get you home.”

“Can’t I just borrow your suit again?” Peter goes for a hopeful tone. 

“Sorry, that was a one time thing.” Tony holds up his hands. “If you want to fly, it’s going to be commercial.” 

“Oh come on!”

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank impravidus for being such an amazing and supportive organizer! You are so awesome!  
> Thank you so much Grace_d for making time to proof read this when you had all the things to do. I appreciate you more than I can say!  
> Thank you so much to OnceUponaFangirl for starting our amazing IronDad discord. I am so thankful!!!  
> No thank you so much to my laptop for deciding not to charge 3 days before this fic was actually due. Stress is a fun motivational tool!
> 
> Brief Notes: According to the web, Tony's plane is a modified 737. Most large private jets are. I think the planes seen in Homecoming and IM2 were maybe smaller, but I rolled with the larger one because it can withstand more and I can fudge stuff a bit because it's customized;)  
> What happened to Tony's plane was based on a true, less fortunate story. Golfer, Payne Stewart's small plane decompressed and crashed. You can look that up, if you want to.


End file.
